


there's a lonesome spirit in this forest

by sykkuno



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Afterlife, Friendship, Gen, Ghosts, Its not that sad, Japanese Mythology & Folklore, Light Angst, Spirits, Swearing, cause theres tommy LOl, i guess?, i repeat...words and scenarios a lot cause im unoriginal, parody of the first fic i posted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-11
Updated: 2020-10-11
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:48:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26959069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sykkuno/pseuds/sykkuno
Summary: standing before him was...a ghost?before tommy could shriek in fear and run away, the boy before him put a finger against his lips with a panicked expression."shhh! don't scream!"...tubbo's a ghost, and has been haunting this temple for over a hundred years, alone and forever stuck at the age of 16. he has no friends— which was reasonable; as he was dead…but it didn't hurt to hope, right?ay it's i like ya cut-g back at it again with another fic on iphone 4 turbo hotness corrected by my (i think i can call her) best friend, user3n on twit :]disclaimer: this fic holds many similarities to the first fic i posted on ao3...(i dont remember the title im sORRY), and since im unoriginal, i use similar elements throughout all my writing. apologies for any grammar or spelling mistakes! i also might be making some art for this au, so follow my insta and twit at the end notes for art :D
Relationships: No Romantic Relationships - Relationship, None, Toby Smith | Tubbo & TommyInnit, there are none
Comments: 9
Kudos: 175





	there's a lonesome spirit in this forest

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [what could they have been?](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26791159) by [sykkuno](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sykkuno/pseuds/sykkuno). 



> wow i almost wrote "imaginating" instead of "imagining" what the heckdfsjdjf 
> 
> and i just cant stop imagining tubbo saying the last line of the fic....my heart..... ;_;....and im neglecting to proofread this so take it LOL

around a hundred years ago, in 1916, a young, bright boy went to japan for his family's summer vacation. he remembered it all— the sunlight had streaked through the dense leaves, casting a netted glow, and the breeze had been cool, leaving him in a content state of mind. but, little did he know, as he treaded into that forest, that today was going to be the last day he ever felt the warmth of life.

and from then on, he would be isolated for a very, very long time.

when tubbo died, he wasn't expecting it to be so slow and painful. yet he still remembered the screams of his parents and the weight of the tree crushing his airway. it had felt like hours since the log had first crashed onto him; but in reality, it was just a few seconds. the ringing of the shrieks in his ear echoed, and he didn't notice he was crying. he had thought, like a movie, he'd get to monologue about how he would miss everyone before he died, but no.

he was gone; a wisp. just like that.

tubbo also did not think that he would be waking up in the very temple of his deathbed. the boy still had the allium flower braided into his hair in the afterlife, and as he tucked it securely behind his ear, he stepped through the building's decaying birch door. his eyes were wide in awe; he never expected that it would be like this. he thought, when he died, he'd surely just go into darkness and sleep eternally, right? or maybe, he would've woken up, with no memory of his past life, as a new person? possibly, he'd join other dead people in the afterlife, up at heaven? but certainly, tubbo was not expecting to just spectate the world, as if he were playing a game.

surely, there had to be other ghosts around him to whom he could talk with, right?

surely?

…no, apparently not.

_but that flickering flame of hope in him burned._

every day was dragging and lonesome. tubbo spent his time watching birds collect twigs, build nests, lay eggs, die, and repeat. his evenings consisted sitting on the roof of the temple, observing the stream's ripples trickle quietly through the countless pebbles snuggled into the banks. he would spend his days gazing at the squirrels and wild cats, who rested on the moss covered base of the red torii, a gate that lead to the now abandoned temple. of course, tubbo attempted to leave the silent forest, but as soon as the temple disappeared from view, his head got dizzy, and his stomach flipped. so, he never left. once he pushed his limits, but he had blacked out from nausea, and ended up back at the temple. he felt frustrated— a wild lion roaring to get out of the cage, claustrophobia's tentacles constantly entrapping him. sometimes, though very rarely, he'd see a family walking by the forest, talk to a fox spirit, or converse briefly with a human who’d stumble upon the monument, like his captor swinging food in front of the cage to entice him with.

in the end, though, it always seemed that he scared people away.

the flowers braided in tubbo's hair wilted a bit every time they fled from him.

 _one hundred years of almost pure isolation is enough to make the most vibrant of people miserable_ , tubbo thought as he watched a cat leap for a rabbit. he couldn't even touch anything. objects phased right through him, and even though the area in which he was confined in was big, he knew every nook and cranny like it was his own house— in a way, it was.

he wondered how the world was doing right now. he wondered if people had learned to make peace with one another. tubbo wondered how his mum was doing. or rather, he corrected himself, his mum's grand grand grand-children. the boy sat on the red torii, fiddling with the sprouts peeking between the cracks, bored thoughts drifting. it seemed as if there were more people now than before, perhaps the population was increasing? he had noticed the fact that he saw others more frequently than usual, and with each sighting, their clothes and appearances seemed to get even wilder.

speaking of which, there was a boy with blonde hair, similar to his age ( _if he was still aliv_ e, tubbo thought bitterly), skipping down the rock path that was almost indecipherable, covered with grass.

 _oh shit!_ tubbo thought, scrambling to get off the torii in a panic. he always forgot how people could see him. in any other circumstance, he would've been elated åt the sight of a young living boy, but right now? he really didn't want to scare _another_ person away and worsen his already bad mood.

but it was too late. as he whipped around to flee the scene, the boy yelled after him, stopping him in his tracks.

"hey! you there!" 

tubbo winced, turning around slowly, praying the boy wouldn't notice his odd transparency.

"oh, you're kinda strange, aren't you?" the boy inspected, leaning in. tubbo could almost feel the high-and-mighty aura this boy held, the smugness in his voice borderline bothersome.

the boy looped closer to him, eyes scanning the temple and forest around them, painfully unaware at the panic tubbo was experiencing. _shit,_ he didn't want to scare away another—

"oi, what's up with ya?" incredulously, he exclaimed. eyes scanning up and down tubbo's form. "you're kinda weird for bein' alone here in this forest, creepy lil' shi— wait."

he froze as the boy leaned in for a closer look. "hol' on a fuckin' second." he muttered, confused. tubbo knew that look all too well as the blonde's eyes snapped open in horror and shock. his mouth opened in the beginnings of a shriek before—

"shhh! please don't scream!"

yikes. as if. 

tubbo's been alone for a century. he's spoken more to plants and animals than he has to another living creature in his entire 'lifetime', so as this intruiging loud-mouthed boy introduced himself as tommy, he was drawn like bees to a blossom, like a ray of light breaking through the clouds after the downpour.

_that hope inside of tubbo began to burn brighter._

the two clicked like magnets. although tommy was cautious at the start of their meeting, the two quickly warmed up and became great buddies. the blonde chattered on about how he was staying here for the time being as his parents worked in england, and boasted about his adventures, while tubbo piped in with small comments on the things he had experienced before. the two got along like how syrup complimented pancakes. 

one day, as summer's sun started to melt into autumn's rays, filtering through the forest canopy that created patterns of light and shadow on the ground, tommy arrive at the temple's steps, like he always did. he brought a burst of happiness to tubbo as he greeted him at the entrance. 

the two talked, as per usual. the conversation flew from ice cream, to technology, to video games; a completely foreign concept to tubbo.

"you don't know what video games are?" shocked, tommy cried, as if he completely missed the point that tubbo lost track of human progress a hundred years ago. tubbo shrugged an “ _i dont know”._

“well," the blonde started, legs dangling over the temple roof. "basically, imagine you have a box in front of you. and on that box, you can play games. some games, you can play with friends, and other games, you can play by yourself."

tubbo hated that word, 'yourself'. "i think i would enjoy playing with friends more." he remarked, thoughts wandering to his late friends.

tommy nodded in agreement, and continued. "there's a game that i love playing with friends. it's called minecraft, because in the game, you can mine trees and stone, and craft recipes to build masterpieces."

imagining a world where he could build anything he wanted, a smile lit upon tubbo's face. "i'd love to play a game like that with friends."

"it's super fuckin' cool." his friend cackled. "oh and guess what, i'm super famous. lots of people watch me play this game and they love it."

"wow!" the ghost replied cheerfully. "i'm friends with a celebrity!"

"fuck right you are!"

_the hope-filled flame roared._

and days passed. tommy brought a device and played the game minecraft as a demo to show tubbo with. the two played minecraft, hopped streams, and travelled to the edge of the forest. they'd watch the sunset while tommy called friends on the device, as well as build mini forts out of sticks. the two were inseparable, and tubbo never wanted to go back to his old life, ever again.

tubbo remembered one night, tommy had snuck out of his home. he arrived at the temple doorsteps, rapping on the wall like a psychopath at midnight.

"tommy...?" tubbo had tiredly greeted him.

the boy seemed too full of energy at an hour like this. "there's gunna be a fuckin' meteor shower tonight!"

a what?

the two watched the stars streak across the sky and it was one of the most beautiful things tubbo had ever witnessed. bright, flaming white lights that fell with a faint trail of glittering dust behind it, illuminating a vast azure sky that was dotted with speckles of yellow, turquoise, and green. tommy kept exclaiming at every meteor that fell, but tubbo was silent. his mouth was open in a small 'o' shape, like a child at a theme park, absolutely in awe of the magnificent scene before him; he didn’t know such things could exist. he didn't know how much he hasn't seen. and he didn't know how fun it could be with a friend.

after the spectacular show, the two conversed deep into the night, chattering like birds at the break of dawn. it was a miracle that a nearby animal hadn't come out and yelled at them for being that loud, with the volume they were talking at.

"i want to be the best content creator that's ever existed." tommy had said, the night breeze ruffling his dirty blonde hair.

tubbo thought of million's of people's eyes on his friend, all in pride and joy. "i hope i get to see you becoming the best you'll ever be," he whispered, voice full of emotion as it rang through his silent surroundings.

tommy looked away, quiet.

"i'll see you in the future? you'll visit?"

there wasn't a response, and that wracked tubbo with anxiety.

_the fire dulled._

and tubbo _could_ hope, right? he _could_ hope that some day, he'll have a friend for life who would come to him with new stories of the outside world, right? he _could_ hope for his long days of loneliness to finally end, right?

he really thought tommy would be the cure, the person with the key to his cage.

but on a friday night in mid-autumn, tommy never showed up at the doorsteps to the temple.

and the saturday right after, there wasn't a trace of the loud, energetic teen.

sunday also held no sightings of tommy, including monday, tuesday, wednesday, and onwards.

tubbo stood in front of the crimson torii, covered in tears and mud tracks holding the only thing he had left of tommy— their memories.

memories of leaping over streams to pick wild berries on the other side, to memories of playing games with his friends. memories of that one beautiful night where they watched stars fall to memories of tommy's shit-filled, grinning face. memories that taunted him once more, memories that made him cry to the void, _where n_ _ot a single person who could listen_ , memories that would haunt tubbo for the rest of his horrible days.

tommy's expression lit up tubbo's whole world— it's a face that he won't ever see again.

_the little flame that kept tubbo going burned out._

it couldn't hurt to hope, right? it couldn't hurt to wait a little longer. even if it takes this forest spirit another one hundred years to befriend someone again, he would wait. tubbo didn't want to be alone; he was always kind to others. he helped people when they were alone. he finished his dinner and did his homework, so why _did he have to be the one to lose everything?_

it hurt for tubbo to go on another day. it hurt to know that no one would hear his cries and no one _could._ he hated chasing after despondent, lost wishes, but...

maybe if he hoped hard enough, he'd get to see tommy again.

.  
  
.

.

tommy jolts up from a nightmare. a nightmare containing a face of someone he can't quite recognize, and the name of that face was right on his tongue. memories of hazy summertime evenings with this person came to mind, but they vanished when he thought about it harder. that summer was weird— it seemed like he couldn't remember anything from that time.

ah, whatever. tommy pulls out his phone and begins to text his friend.

"hey, wilbur! i think i got an idea for a new video!"

.

.

.

_a broken voice full of anguish cried out._

_"please don't leave me alone."_

**Author's Note:**

> instagram: rinisunavailable  
> twitter: rinnit_  
> .  
> comments/kudos appreciated! it's bad, but at least your likes boost my crippling ego :,]


End file.
